n this: it was a useless exposure of my want of faith in
his word to the servant. I told him I was sorry, but since he had
forfeited my confidence, he must take the consequence. He next pleaded
inability to hold the pen. 'Then we must wait until you can hold it,'
said I. Upon which he said he would try; but then he could not see to
write. I placed my finger where the signature was to be, and told him he
might write his name in the dark, if he only knew where to put it. But
he had not power to form the letters. 'In that case, you must be too ill
to see the child,' said I; and finding me inexorable, he at length
managed to ratify the agreement; and I bade Rachel send the boy.

All this may strike you as harsh, but I felt I must not lose my present
advantage, and my son's future welfare should not be sacrificed to any
mistaken tenderness for this man's feelings. Little Arthur had not
forgotten his father, but thirteen months of absence, during which he had
seldom been permitted to hear a word about him, or hardly to whisper his
name, had rendered him somewhat shy; and when he was ushered into the
darkened room where the sick man lay, so altered from his former self,
with fiercely flushed face and wildly-gleaming eyes--he instinctively
clung to me, and stood looking on his father with a countenance
expressive of far more awe than pleasure.

'Come here, Arthur,' said the latter, extending his hand towards him.
The child went, and timidly touched that burning hand, but almost started
in alarm, when his father suddenly clutched his arm and drew him nearer
to his side.

'Do you know me?' asked Mr. Huntingdon, intently perusing his features.

'Yes.'

'Who am I?'

'Papa.'

'Are you glad to see me?'

'Yes.'

'You're not!' replied the disappointed parent, relaxing his hold, and
darting a vindictive glance at me.

Arthur, thus released, crept back to me and put his hand in mine. His
father swore I had made the child hate him, and abused and cursed me
bitterly. The instant he began I sent our son out of the room; and when
he paused to breathe, I calmly assured him that he was entirely mistaken;
I had never once attempted to prejudice his child against him.

'I did indeed desire him to forget you,' I said, 'and especially to
forget the lessons you taught him; and for that cause, and to lessen the
danger of discovery, I own I have generally discouraged his inclination
to talk about you; but no one can blame me f